I Hate Seagulls
by scarfganini
Summary: The problem with being Roxas was that there was not enough courage to speak up.


HEY I WROTE SOMETHING

Oh god seriously?

YEAH SERIOUSLY

And you're _posting _it?

YEAH I KNOW

I thought I taught you better!

SORRY CONSCIENCE. D:

No more inflicting pain on other people!

D:

I'll just talk at the end. Here you go.

-Oh-please-believe-me,-I'd-hate-to-miss-the-train-

Roxas closed his eyes and listened to the vague quacking of the seagulls over the dock. You could hear them for blocks away, which was where Roxas was, at a dingy bus stop, bent over himself and sitting against a pole. The bus wasn't scheduled to arrive for half an hour yet. So he closed his eyes and listened to the seagulls. It was funny how they could be so loud, like it suited their personalities. When Seagulls saw something they wanted, they dove on it, right? Once, Roxas had been sitting out on the beach, and a seagull and hopped right up to him and stared at him until he'd set his sandwich down carefully and backed away. The seagull called in reinforcements to carry it off. He never sat out of reach of a good throwing rock after that. God, he hated seagulls. He ground one of his loose sneakers into the pavement, like he could grind off everything drowning him out.

He relaxed the muscles in his shoulders and put his head to his knees. He thought about the noise he was making. He wasn't making any noise. His foot had stopped attacking the asphalt, and he held his breath, and there was, of course, no heartbeat. He thought about how funny it was that he was so quiet. Like it suited his personality. And he thought about how he'd probably never kiss Axel. He felt a little bit like a statue, like 'modern art'- someone had carved him out of stone or wire and pushed him up against this pole. Pedestrians could try to find meaning in him, and maybe pretend they had, discussing it with their friend and feeling like they were deep. But of course, they hadn't seen anything in him at all.

The seagulls cawed over other people's prizes in the distance, and there was a dull rumbling as cars passed beside him. He wasn't breathing at all anymore. His chest felt tight. He thought about how people die that way. They hold their breath until no one knows they exist anymore, and then suddenly they don't. They were nobody, so they held their breath and became even slighter. His chest burnt. It didn't feel so different from usual. His face felt hot, and cold. His fingers tingled a bit, but he thought that maybe he imagined that. He couldn't hear the seagulls anymore. Eyes closed, nothing needed to be done. If he didn't have a heart, he couldn't circulate blood, anyways. Who needed breathing. Not he. He would stay so silent that even the pedestrians, observing him quietly and skeptically, trying to find something in him to explain to someone else, would not notice him. So quiet.

"ROXAS!"

Roxas gasped, throwing his head back so fast that it hit the pole. Sparks erupted behind his eyes, and he doubled back over again, breathing heavily. "J... Jesus..." he wheezed, keeping his head low, waiting for the lights to dim again. "God, Axel..." he looked up. It was Axel. "God..."

"What the hell were you doing down there? I thought you were going somewhere today!"

"I- yeah, only the bus hasn't come yet." Breathing.

Axel looked at him doubtfully, as though a carving had just blinked at him. Roxas could look right up at his face, because he was blocking the light. He took another breath. It felt better, less empty. He was suddenly a little ashamed. "Well, since you're not going anywhere, you might as well come with me." Axel interrupted his thoughts.

"What- I am going somewhere, I just.. haven't... left yet." Breathing.

"Shut up and come with me!"

Roxas suppressed the urge to look and see if anyone had heard. Axel had a voice that made you turn around on the street. "I can't just do that, I'll miss my ride."

"What if it doesn't come? What if the bus broke down and you're waiting in vain? You may as well come with me, at least I'm certain to give you something to do. Unlike that flaky bus guy."

"Where are you going?"

"Down to the docks. I like throwing rocks at the seagulls." He winked.

Roxas smiled a bit. "Me, too."

"Damn noisy birds always drown me out. Me, of all people."

"You."

"Well, I always get what I want. They'd better just watch their backs." He grabbed Roxas' forearm, gave a half-hearted pull upwards, let go, and started down the path. Roxas watched him go. Axel looked back as if to say, 'honestly? I just invited you to share my precious time, and you're just _sitting_ there?" Even his eyes were loud and clear. Roxas got up and followed him, the pattering of his feet on the sidewalk following right along after.

-And-if-you-leave-me,-I-won't-be-late-again-

Uh.

Well, I like this one a bit, mostly because I didn't plan it at all. I just sort of felt like writing, so even though it was super late and I was supposed to be getting ready for bed I wrote this instead.  
I debated for ages as I wrote whether I should put Axel in at the end, but I couldn't see any other way to wrap it up. Sorry for the cliché, I tried to tone it down...

I also wanted to add a bit more on some connection between empty-chest-lack-of-air and empty-chest-lack-of-heart/axel, because I'm not sure that was clear, but also I don't think I could add it without sounding really stupid, so hopefully some of you picked up on that.

It's a bit much in places, but all in all I think I kept it ok.

But, anyways, Kate Nash was playing and decided I hadn't written anything from Roxas' point of view yet, so I did, so here.

...

errr.

Ok.

Disclaimer: I don't own Axel, or Roxas, or... uhm... huh. Well, I don't own them.


End file.
